


Glasses

by Iocane



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: But they're mild and Connor makes it all better, Fluff, Hank Anderson Has Self-Esteem Issues, Hank in an ugly sweater, Hank in glasses, Hank with a ponytail, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 04:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16967727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iocane/pseuds/Iocane
Summary: Connor is going to be gone for hours, so Hank can wear his glasses without being seen.Of course it's never that simple!





	Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> Literally just an excuse to write about Hank in glasses.

"I promise, I won't order pizza," Hank grumbled as he ushered Connor out the door.  "Say Hi to Markus for me. Drive safe!"

Finally the android was hustled off, and would be gone all damn evening, possibly overnight and Hank headed back to his room.  He fished his glasses from his bedside table, where they lived in a drawer, under some papers. Tucking them into his pocket, he made his way to the kitchen, setting the electric kettle up.  No pizza, he'd promised, with the implication of no chinese or any other horribly unhealthy food. He hadn't said one damn word about sugar and fluff laden hot cocoa.

While the water heated up, Hank looked out through the window over the sink, seeing the snow falling already in fat, dense flakes.  If he was lucky, the white shit would keep Connor in Jericho overnight. Not that he didn't like Connor, he did. He liked him way more than was fucking healthy for a man his age.  Maybe even - Hank cut that thought off before it could form.

It's good that Connor was out.   Visiting folks in Jericho, shopping on the way home.  He needed to make friends, realize there was more to deviancy than taking care of a broken down old human.  Speaking of, Hank unfolded his glasses, pulling the wire arms around his ears and setting the frames on his nose, actually sighing when the whole world sharpened.

After he fixed his cocoa, he let it cool while he let Sumo out.  It was earlier than usual but with the snow coming down, he figured better sooner than later.  While watching his dog romp, Hank felt the chill and once Sumo was back inside, he returned to his room to find a sweater.  

Finally he settled onto the couch.  Mug in one hand, old book in the other.  His sweater was of a piece with his shirts.  Once upon a time it would have been called a Cosby sweater, it was bold geometric designs in muted greens and blues, which made the bright yellow stripes stand out even more.  Final step was to pull his hair back, fingers combing through it before he twisted the hair tie around it, keeping the majority of his hair back up off his face.

Hank savored the weight of the hardcover in his hand, spine resting against his palm as his fingers stroked the yellowed pages.   Soon he lost himself in the story, reminding himself again of why Agatha Christie was still the best selling crime novelist of all time.

He was so lost in the story, he didn't hear the front door opening, or the click of dog claws on hardwood as Sumo went to greet Connor.  What finally snapped him out of his book was a softly spoken 'oh.' Hank's head snapped up, the book falling closed and his startled brain had enough time to register that Connor was even better looking than he'd thought before he yanked his glasses off his face.  "What are you doing back?" he demanded.

"I, uhm, the," Connor looked a bit stunned, LED a soft yellow, mouth slightly open.  "The weather," he finally recovered. "Reports were a storm was coming, so I told Markus I'd come by another time.  I did some shopping for a few days and came home. When did you start wearing glasses?"

"Caught that, huh?" Hank grumbled, knowing denial would be pointless.  Still, he wasn't about to put them back on. Not with Connor looking that good.  "Since about six months after Cole's accident," he sighed, reaching for his hot chocolate as Connor hung his coat and came to join him on the couch.

"Why don't you wear them, the prescription is strong enough that it's a wonder you don't have headaches."

"Christ, Connor," Hank hated when his human frailties were pointed out so casually.  He knew Connor didn't mean anything by it, but it could be upsetting to have himself analyzed so thoroughly, knowing he came up lacking. Not just against androids, but against most other humans.  "I drink enough that I've always got a headache anyway," he finally said, waving off the question, turning his gaze to Sumo to avoid looking at Connor.

"You haven't actually been drinking that much in the last few months." Connor's voice was soft and Hank could feel those soft brown eyes on his face.

"Maybe.  Still, I don't get headaches, because they're just reading glasses." A lie but one he would stick to till his dying day.

The quiet stretched and Hank let himself think the discussion was over, then Connor spoke again.  "If you're worried about how they affect your appearance, they improve your attractiveness."

Hank snorted.  "You mean anything's better than how I usually look." Since his peaceful evening reading was over, he stood, managing to suppress a groan, going to put his book back on the shelf.

"Hank! That is  **not** what I meant!"  

Hank pushed his book back into place on the shelf and it was like the action flipped a switch because all the lights went out.   "Fuck. There's some, uhm-" 

"I know," Connor was no doubt already in night vision mode or whatever he used to navigate in the dark.  

Turning, Hank watched that blue glow make its way into the kitchen and a moment later Connor seemed to snap his fingers over the wick and a flame sprouted.   Lighting another from the first, he approached Hank. "The power outage is widespread, but they expect to have it restored in a few hours. Unfortunately, everything I bought needs to be cooked to be enjoyable."

"It's fine," Hank took one of the candles, making his way back to the couch.  "I could stand to skip a few meals, as it's been pointed out that I need to lose weight." Hank gave his gut a squeeze and jiggle, knowing it looked even worse under is thick sweater, which is why he never wore them around Connor.

"I never said that! I worry that your eating verges on unhealthy when left to your own devices, but not because I think you should lose weight.  I would prefer if you didn't, actually." That last was spoken quietly and Hank glanced at him.

Connor's face was unreadable, but there was a softness to his eyes, maybe.  It could just be the dim lighting, or Hank's admittedly failing vision, but he looked almost sad for a moment.  The question asked itself before Hank could stop it "Why don't you want me to lose weight?"

"If you tell me the truth about why you don't wear your glasses."

"Fine." Hank crossed his arms over his chest, doing is best to glower, though he knew no one ever looked intimidating in a sweater like this one.  "I know I'm old, and fat, and out of shape, and everyone at the precinct thinks I should be put out to pasture. Glasses are just going to make it worse."

Hank could see Connor's LED go yellow for a moment, and he would almost swear Connor scowled at his answer.  "If that's how you feel you look to others, you might find my answer surprising, but I'll do what it takes to make you believe it.  I would prefer if you didn't lose weight because I like your appearance, very much."

Hank was too surprised by that quiet admission to do more than blink.  He didn't-did he just-? But Connor was perfection incarnate, why on earth did he like, well,  _ any _ human, let alone one as flawed as Hank?

"One reason I returned home, aside from the weather, is because I wanted to tell you how I felt.  How I've been feeling for quite some time. I would very much like to be more than friends, and I rate it at a better than even chance those feelings are returned, based on your reactions to-"

"Stop." Hank did not want to hear himself dissected again.  "You aren't wrong. But if this- if we're- Stop with the- I know you can read me like a book, I don't need chapter and verse on my own vitals, okay?"  He was still reeling, both from Connor's words and his own admission.

"Understood, I never meant to upset you.  But I meant what I said." Hank had just enough time to register Connor moving closer before he was very much inside Hank's personal space bubble.  Nimble hands plucked Hank's glasses from the table where he'd tossed them and eased them onto his face. "You look very attractive regardless, but when I saw you in these, I very nearly rebooted."

Automatically, Hank adjusted the frames, seeing Connor's lovely face come into even sharper focus.  "I look like someone's grandad right now," Hank said with a soft chuckle.

"Not to me.  To me you look like the very handsome Lieutenant who was the first person to treat me a human.  A large part of why I went deviant. Someone I consider a very dear friend and - according to everyone I've asked about it - am halfway in love with." Even in the dim light, Hank could see Connor's cheeks darkening and it was soothing to know that this, at least, didn't come as smoothly and easily to Connor as everything else.

"Do I want to know who you've been talking to about me?" Hank chuckled.  His hand came up, callused and rough against Connor's impossibly smooth cheek.

"I suspect that answer would fall under not wishing chapter and verse of my analysis.  Suffice it to say Markus was very understanding when I cancelled my visit to Jericho this evening."

Seeing the way Connor was smiling, the tenderness in his eyes, Hank just couldn't feel as self conscious as he usually did.  He licked his lips briefly, not missing the way Connor's eyes dilated slightly. "You mentioned you'd do whatever it took to prove your point ..."

"Are you suggesting such proof would be required?" Connor murmured even as his hand moved to rest on Hank's thigh.

"I'm suggesting such proof would certainly be welcome.  Especially since it's gonna get really cold in here with the power out."

"I see," Connor bit his lip, then moved forward, kissing Hank slowly as his body melted doan against his.  "I'd best see about keeping my human warm, then."

"Your human certainly appreciates the sentiment," Hank murmured as he wrapped his arms around Connor's rapidly warming body.


End file.
